


The Long Haul

by maddersahatter



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:37:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddersahatter/pseuds/maddersahatter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A captive Daniel helps a princess in distress with both a physical and an emotional journey.<br/>(Set mid season 2 between 'Secrets' and 'Bane')</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Put us down!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [For my wonderful friend and beta Sherri whose inspiration saved this story](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=For+my+wonderful+friend+and+beta+Sherri+whose+inspiration+saved+this+story).



**Planet: Unknown**

**Woodland, late summer**

“You _dare_ lay hands on our royal person?”

The 107 pounds of dead weight Daniel had been lugging over his shoulder for the past nine klicks suddenly became very much alive as Princess Ro’Pita regained consciousness. The repeated sharp blows of tiny fists of fury over his left kidney accompanied her cry of indignation. He anticipated bruises forming, echoing the ones that the butt of an enemy weapon had painted across his ribcage during their capture.

“My humble apologies, Highness,” Daniel offered through gritted teeth. “It’s kinda hard to carry you without actually touching you.”

For the first time since he’d met her three weeks earlier, Daniel was starting to see why Jack claimed the Princess’ name suited her so admirably.

_“She’s a Royal Pain in the Ass, that’s what she is!”_ Jack had declared on several occasions, though never within her hearing of course.

Right now, she was causing a pain slightly higher up, as she continued to pummel Daniel’s kidney and berate him loudly. She would probably have been kicking him too if his hold on the back of her knees hadn’t prevented it.

“This is most undignified and we are most uncomfortable. Put us down, at _once!”_

_I’d love to,_ Daniel thought, wincing at yet another well placed blow. _If only I could_.

Daniel had discovered that the _pluralis majestatis_ was a common convention in many cultures throughout the galaxy though - curiously enough – he hadn’t yet managed to trace it back to the Goa’uld. Whilst the seventeen-year-old Princess was certainly not overly heavy for her five foot two inch frame, after well over an hour of trudging through the uneven ground of the woodland it was starting to feel like he really was carrying two people. It didn’t help that she was in her ‘traveling clothes’; a full length, long-sleeved, high-waisted purple velvet dress over at least half a dozen petticoats, topped off with a heavyweight double breasted coat of the same rich hue in something that resembled camel hair. Her feet were encased in jet-black knee-high boots adorned with tiny buttons and fine laces, and three-inch heels. It was winter where they’d come from and she wouldn’t leave the palace in anything less than her warmest apparel. Here on what Daniel assumed was their captors’ home world, the climate was considerably more balmy and he was feeling very warm in his OD green uniform. The princess must be roasting.

“Forgive my presumption, Highness, but I believe your ankle to be broken. It would be discourteous of me to let you put your weight on it.” Daniel had learned how the Princess liked people to speak to her - when she tolerated it at all - it had become second nature to him. She had something the SGC wanted, so Jack had ordered him to ‘play nice’ with her. Daniel had finally won her round with what Jack teased him was ‘his natural charm’ but which he personally attributed to simple patience and a willingness to appease her whims. This morning, Ro’Pita had agreed to go back to Cheyenne Mountain with them to share her gift.

_Yeah, see how well_ that _worked out!_

“Besides,” Daniel added ruefully, “our captors have ordered me to carry you, Highness - and they’re the ones with the weapons.”

“You mean you have _not_ rescued us?” Ro’Pita thumped him again for good measure.

“Not yet I fear, Highness,” Daniel admitted.

“Less talk, more walking!” ordered the tall, dark and ugly guy on the magnificent black stallion.

Daniel assumed him to be the leader by virtue of the fact that everyone else was on foot.

_Ratface,_ as Daniel had mentally christened the unknown assailant, tugged sharply on the rope that was attached to the pommel of his ornate leather saddle. It nearly pulled Daniel to his knees, since the other end formed a noose around his neck. He stumbled and barely managed to stay upright, coughing as the slack rope chafed, choking him.

The shift in position caused the princess to squeal loudly. “Careful, Idiot! You nearly dropped us!”

“Shut that _Pa'tuch_ up!” snarled the marauder whom Daniel believed to be second in command. He resembled tall-dark-and-ugly so closely that he was almost certainly a younger brother. He’d been ordered to bring up the rear of their party, to make sure that Daniel and the princess didn’t try to escape.

As if there was any possibility of that!

Daniel was reminded of the futility of any such thoughts as he was prodded in the back by an energy weapon to get him marching faster again. It wasn’t anything like a zat gun to look at, but it packed just as powerful a punch, judging by the effect it had on the King and his bodyguards back on Salverit, Ro’Pita’s home planet.

Five other goons - similarly armed - flanked them closely on all sides. They appeared in every sense of the word a tight-knit military unit. Making a run for it was _not_ on the cards.

“How _dare_ you refer to us so rudely?”

Daniel could tell by the slight arching of her back that Ro’Pita had lifted her head - no doubt to glare at the guard. Having witnessed her displeasure several times – usually aimed at Jack - Daniel would attest that if looks could indeed kill, the guard would have dropped dead on the spot. Of course, were that the case, their escape would have been reasonably easy to engineer. Daniel sighed.

Daniel recognized the word _Pa'tuch_ as one that was often used of the princess in her absence. These people obviously shared a common language with the Salveritans. The nearest translation he could attribute to it was ‘annoying brat’ which, though at times apt, had hitherto seemed somewhat harsh to Daniel.

Her outburst earned Daniel another jab in the back from Ugly Junior’s weapon and a hissed command in his ear. “Stop her looking at me like that!”

Daniel responded by making a request to alter the way he was carrying her.

The guard looked at them both and considered a moment, then nodded. “Don’t try anything,” he warned.

“With your permission, Highness, might I move you to a more comfortable position?”

Ro’Pita paused to contemplate. “Proceed,” she decided.

With the rope around his neck, it would not be an easy maneuver.

“I’ll need to stop a minute,” Daniel stated reasonably.

“We stop on _my_ command,” growled Ratface, turning in his saddle, the thick hide of his dark brown breeches creaking against the seat. “Keep moving.”

“A little help here, then, maybe?” Daniel asked nervously.

“So that you can take our weapons? Not likely, we’re not stupid,” came the response from the heavy-set hijacker on Daniel’s left, who was nursing a grazed upper arm where one of Sam’s bullets had creased him during their initial attack.

Sadly, Daniel had to agree with that assessment. The kidnapping had obviously been planned with precision and was almost flawless in its execution. They had clearly underestimated SG-1’s firepower - as evidenced by the colleagues they’d left for dead – but, other than that, so far things had gone pretty much their way.

Surprisingly, it was Ratface Junior who came to Daniel’s aid and facilitated the operation. “Best slow down for a minute at least, Valton,” he addressed his brother with the confidence of one accustomed to having his views considered. “If he drops her now and she breaks her neck, she’ll be useless to us.”

Daniel noticed that nobody seemed to care if he fell and broke _his_ neck.

“I suppose you have a point, Folcan. Very well, but we have a deadline to meet. Any time lost now must be made up.” Valton was clearly not happy about having his leadership decisions challenged so openly, but he couldn’t fault his sibling’s logic.

They all paused and - with a little ingenuity - Daniel managed to get the princess lying across his chest, her arms around his neck, knees crooked over his right arm. At least now his kidneys were out of the firing line.

Daniel was glad not to have the added weight of his backpack to carry, or to be encumbered by the extra bulk. On the other hand, he really wished that his supplies and weapons hadn’t been confiscated - along with his watch, which had fascinated Valton. Their captors seemed to be a curious mix of advanced technology and late medieval appearance, as if two cultures had collided. In fact, given their arboreal surroundings and the uniform of dull green or brown leather jerkins, trousers and sturdy boots they all wore, Daniel couldn’t help but mentally equate them with Robin Hood and his not-so merry men. These were a dour bunch.

Valton now wore Daniel’s watch and his zat gun was nestled in the saddlebag alongside his sidearm. The rest had been left behind in the clearing by the Stargate where the firefight had separated him from the rest of the team. Last he’d seen of Jack, Sam and Teal’c, they’d been trapped inside some sort of force field that held them prisoner and prevented them from helping him and the unconscious princess.

They still had all their gear, though. So, when Jack yelled, “Hang in there, Daniel. Soon as we get outta here, we’ll come get you!” Daniel had been reassured that Sam would shut down the force field in no time flat and they would all soon be safely on their way home.

Thus far however, whenever he’d managed to steal a glance over his shoulder, there had been no sign of his friends or of rescue. All he could do for now was to stumble his way forward, leaving deep footprints and broken foliage as best he could for Teal’c to track him by. Always one to look for a silver lining, Daniel kept telling himself that the added weight of the princess would make his tracks distinctive and easy to spot. He tried to remain alert so that when his friends caught up and sprung an ambush; he was ready to do his part. This would most likely entail keeping the willful princess out of the crossfire.


	2. Starting and Stopping

**The clearing**

“It’s no use, sir!” Carter threw her hands up in frustration. After two and a half hours she’d exhausted every possibility she could imagine, and herself in the process. “There’s just _no way_ I can deactivate this from the inside.” She wiped her sleeve across her forehead to absorb the sweat that had accumulated there.

Colonel O’Neill raised his zat. “Back to plan ‘A’ then,” he declared. “We short circuit the sucker.”

Carter squeezed herself between his outstretched arm and the boundary of the softly shimmering force field. There wasn’t a lot of space to spare. “As I’ve already explained, sir, the field will either simply absorb the energy or more likely rebound it at us. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what a zat blast at close quarters feels like?”

Jack frowned at her, opened his mouth to make a snide retort, then shrugged and lowered his weapon. Having been knocked on his butt after colliding with the shield when it was first activated, he was in no hurry to get himself shocked into total unconsciousness.

“Should we not consider a Plan ‘C’ instead?” Teal’c put in.

“You got something, T? Cos I’m all out,” Jack shot back. If there was one thing guaranteed to rile the colonel, it was feeling helpless. “I don’t see any cavalry on the horizon waiting to ride in to our rescue, do you?”

“I do not.” Teal’c paused for a moment and pointedly glanced around. “Neither do I see any guards posted to prevent our departure,” Teal’c stated the obvious as only he could.

“That’s because they know this force field is impenetrable,” Sam kicked the dusty ground at her feet. If there was one thing guaranteed to rile the captain, it was her failure to solve a problem.

Without another word, Teal’c took the standard issue shovel from out of his backpack, assembled the handle and began to dig. Nothing seemed to rile the Jaffa.

**Nightfall in the woods**

“My horse needs to rest. I don’t wish to risk him injuring a leg in the dark. We’ll make camp here for the night,” declared Valton, dismounting and tethering his steed loosely to a nearby branch so that it could graze on the mossy forest floor.

_Your horse isn’t the only one!_

Daniel had never been so glad to hear anything in his life.

They had been marched at a brutal pace for what must have been five or six hours, though the movement of the alien sun across an unfamiliar sky made it difficult to be accurate. It certainly felt like it had been a very long day.

One thing Daniel _could_ be sure of was that he ached all over. He’d been allowed to move the princess to different positions periodically – piggy-back, fireman’s lift etc - but never to put her down. His shoulders were burning, his arms ached, his back was stiff and his bruised ribs were sore. He was lucky they weren’t broken. His legs felt like lead and his feet hurt. He was clammy with sweat, his floppy hair lank and plastered to his forehead and neck. He was tired and hungry, and sick to death of hearing the girl whine all the way about how unfair all this was on _her._

If Daniel thought his ordeal had been suspended, he soon learned differently.

“Put her down over there - carefully,” Folcan ordered, nodding toward the base of a particularly wide girthed tree and waving his weapon in Daniel’s face in a manner that warned Daniel not to make any sudden moves.

He needn’t have worried. Daniel could barely move at all, even when the rope was removed from Valton’s saddle giving him some leeway. It was all Daniel could do not to drop the princess like a sack of coals.

Unsure how he managed it, Daniel sat her down gently against the trunk, being especially sensitive to her injured foot, which so far seemed to have been mercifully numb by her lack of complaint on the subject.

Now however, the shift in her center of gravity restored feeling and she yelped loudly. A wellspring of tears poured forth from her pale lavender-blue eyes. “We are in intolerable pain. Make it stop!” Since Daniel was out of reach, her fists pounded the ground at her sides instead.

For the first time, her tone was more upset than angry, the gesture borne of frustration rather than fury. She hadn’t even protested about the lack of a blanket to sit on.

“Silence, _Pa'tuch,_ you would complain of ‘intolerable pain’ if you broke a fingernail!” Folcan raised his arm as if to strike her.

Ro’Pita sobbed all the louder.

Daniel put himself between them, arms spread out slightly from his sides, but low, palms upward, careful not to make any counter move that might be perceived as a threat, but making it clear he would not allow his charge to be beaten or bullied. All thoughts of asking for something to ease her discomfort evaporated. They didn’t care.

Folcan glared, but dropped his arm.

“I’m truly sorry, Highness, but without a first aid kit there’s little I can do,” Daniel was genuinely empathic to her plight.

Under the watchful eye of Folcan, Daniel removed his jacket and rolled it up, using it to elevate and cushion her ankle, if only slightly. With the setting of the sun the air had began to cool and he shivered at the contrast.

Daniel briefly debated with himself whether he should suggest removing her boot. The ankle was bound to be badly swollen, and the snug fitting footwear probably felt as if it was cutting into the delicate flesh, making it throb. On the other hand, it would offer the support that he didn’t have a bandage to provide.

Daniel could use Sam’s advice. He wished she were here, along with Jack and Teal’c. He wondered what was happening with them, and how much longer it would be before they turned up.

On balance, Daniel thought it best to leave the boot well alone. Even with him carrying her, it would be easier to make a quick getaway if she was still wearing it. The idea of a rescue attempt being bodged because she insisted on someone going back for her priceless footwear didn’t bear thinking about.

“You done pampering Princess _Pa’tuch_?” Folcan asked in an irritated tone, casting a glance over his shoulder at the campfire the others had gotten going.

They were starting to cook their rations. Folcan was clearly anxious to make sure he got his share, but the prisoners were his responsibility and he had to secure them first.

“I’m afraid I’ve done all I can,” Daniel nodded. He wished he could do more. The girl was evidently in genuine pain from her ankle, and there was a nasty cut on her forehead, surrounded by a large raised bruise. She probably had the devil of a headache and almost certainly had a concussion.

Under threat of the energy weapon, Folcan gave Daniel a length of rope and ordered him to bind the princess to the tree.

“Is that really necessary?” Daniel queried. “She can’t stand, let alone run away.”

Folcan pressed the weapon hard against Daniel’s solar plexus and simultaneously delivered a powerful left-hook to his jaw, making Daniel’s head whip sideways. The noose that still hung loosely round his neck rubbed against his flesh. Daniel winced, feeling his teeth with his tongue to be sure they were all still in place.

The princess cowered in fear.

“My humble apologies, Highness,” Daniel offered as he encircled her waist, arms and the trunk of the tree with the rope. He made sure to fasten it tight enough to satisfy the guy with the gun, but not so tight as to cause her any real discomfort.

“Now, your turn,” Folcan declared. “Stand there.” He gestured to the same tree, to the right of the princess, and forced Daniel to stand up straight with his back to it. The length of rope dangling from the noose was looped over a sturdy branch above Daniel’s head and then knotted around a lower one. So much for lying down to rest, if Daniel let his head droop more than a few inches; the slack in the rope would tighten and the noose would start to throttle him.

A second, shorter piece of rope was looped around Daniel’s left wrist, taken behind the trunk and then tied to his right wrist, pulling his arms behind him so that he was half hugging the tree in a most awkward and uncomfortable backward position.

Folcan checked that their bonds were secure before moving off to get his supper. Daniel asked when it would be their turn to eat, but received no answer.

“We are most disappointed in you, _Daniel,_ ” Ro’Pita said his name in exactly the same scathing tone as Folcan had said _Pa’tuch._ “You promised our father we would be safe in your care.”

Daniel bit back the urge to point out that if the precious princess hadn’t fussed and flounced and dilly-dallied so long before leaving the palace, they would have been safely through the Gate and back on Earth long before the marauders showed up to abduct her. Them. Which thought led him inevitably to another, more disturbing one.

“I’m very sorry, but we couldn’t have foreseen the attack upon you, Highness,” he began. “Doesn’t it strike you as odd that these kidnappers just _happened_ to show up as you were in the vicinity of your _spinrock?_ ”

Daniel was always fascinated by the various names given to the Stargate. They often gave a clue as to the ancestral origins of the natives. _Spinrock_ was both a fairly fitting – if slightly inaccurate - description of the device and the Swedish word for a spinning wheel, which was also pretty apt.

The Princess looked up at him sharply, obviously reaching the same conclusion that he had. Someone had tipped them off that she was making her very first journey off world. Well, almost the same conclusion.

“You are in league with them!” she decided, shrieking with fury. “You betrayed us! We trusted you, and you have delivered us to our enemies.”

Daniel was suddenly grateful that she was tied up; else he would surely have been on the receiving end of those fists again. Genuinely shocked by her accusation, Daniel looked down at her delicate face, marred by the angry bruise on her forehead. He frowned.

“Your Highness _knows_ that is not true.”

She squirmed beneath his scrutiny and avoided eye contact. “Yes, of course we know it. We are hungry, upset and tired. That is all.” Her tone made it clear that particular topic was closed.

“Apology accepted, Highness.” Daniel realized that was as close as he would get to one. He changed tack. “Might I ask, do you know who these people are, Highness?”

“The Mendan, from a neighboring planet. A world filled with untrustworthy ruffians. They have traded with us for generations, but of late they have revealed themselves to have designs upon our throne.”

Further discussion was curtailed by the return of Folcan, bringing them meager rations of a couple of dry biscuits and a cup of water each.

Princess Ro’Pita berated him loudly for the unsuitability of the food and more so for having to endure being fed by him.

It was only Daniel’s intervention and groveling gratitude that ensured they didn’t go to sleep without anything at all. 


	3. "We'll give 'em back!"

**Meanwhile back in the clearing**

By the time the trio had dug their way out under the force field, retrieved the scattered kit and set off in pursuit of Daniel, the Princess and their captors, the daylight was already starting to fade. They hurried to the edge of the clearing, easily able to follow the footprints and hoof prints in the dusty ground to the point where the raiding party and their prisoners had entered the woods.

“They’ve got a heck of a head start on us and it’s not gonna be easy to track ‘em in the dark,” O’Neill declared despondently.

“Then might I suggest we avail ourselves of an advantage of our own?” Teal’c pointed toward a broad pathway over to their right.

“How is going the wrong way an advantage?” Jack looked at the Jaffa like he’d lost his mind.

“It would appear that most travelers coming through the Gate take that road,” Teal’c observed. “I predict therefore that it leads to a village or some such populated area. The locals are most probably used to dealing with off-worlders. We may be able to gain intel as to who has kidnapped the Princess and where they are taking her.”

“Yeah, right!” Jack looked skeptical. Raising his hand in mock greeting, he began speaking to an imaginary group of locals. “Hi there folks, you don’t know us, we’re from a planet a long way from here. A very good friend of ours has been kidnapped along with Princess Pain in the Ass. Since they were brought here it looks like some of your guys are responsible. Would you be so kind as to betray them?”

“Alternatively,” Teal’c inclined his head in acknowledgement that his first suggestion may prove unlikely. “We may be able to obtain horses such as their leader rode. Since the rest of the marauders were on foot, we will make better time if we ride and consequently reach our quarry faster.”

“Now you’re talking!” Jack beamed. That was a plan he could get on board with. It would be worth the detour to be able to make up for lost time and close the gap.

“I just hope we have something the natives will consider worth bartering for,” Carter put in, ever the pragmatist.

“If not, Carter, then we just ‘borrow’ the horses, okay?” O’Neill put ‘air quotes’ around the word borrow.

“You mean steal them, sir?” Sam obviously wasn’t completely comfortable with that prospect.

“We’ll give ‘em back,” Jack assured her, offended. “Once we got Daniel and the royal pain safe.”


	4. On Mendan Hospitality

**Nighttime in the woods**

Daniel needn’t have worried about going to sleep hungry. Every time weariness overwhelmed him and his head drooped in slumber, the awkwardness of his confinement, the tension on his arms and the rope about his neck stirred him back to wakefulness. As did the low grinding growls of Ro’Pita’s snores so close beside him. He dozed on and off for all too brief periods, during which his mind replayed the events that had led him to this sorry state...

_...They had finally reached the Gate, and Ro’Pita was dawdling over her good-byes with her father, who was fussing about her leaving. Daniel had promised to take good care of her and return her safely in one week’s time as agreed. Jack had been tapping his watch impatiently, anxious for some action._

_Unfortunately, he got his wish._

_Just as Daniel moved to the DHD to dial home, the Gate had dialed in and everything happened in a flash. Daniel barely had time to make sure that nobody was standing in the radius of the ‘kawoosh’ when the marauders piled through. King Ha’Jen’s personal guard had hastily surrounded him and raised their weapons, while Daniel and the rest of SG-1 had similarly formed a protective barrier around the princess. A brief exchange of weapons fire had ensued, in which the monarch and his men had been rendered unconscious by the energy weapons. Teal’c had taken out one of the attackers with his staff weapon, leaving him groaning weakly on the floor, while Jack had similarly incapacitated a second._

_All would have been well if the Princess hadn’t panicked, and barreled Sam to the ground – spoiling the Captain’s aim at the heavy-set guy - in her determination to go to her stricken father’s side. With the formation broken, one of the assailants had managed to grab Ro’Pita, and immediately put a hand over her mouth to silence her. Daniel had dashed after her, but found himself flattened by a vicious blow to his ribs that knocked the air from his lungs._

_The kidnapper held the princess in front of himself: a human shield. Before Jack - who’d bent to help Carter back to her feet and make sure she was uninjured – could even try to take out any of the others, the villain pressed his weapon to Ro’Pita’s neck in a clear challenge – make a move and she dies._

_Teal’c was similarly distracted helping Daniel up, but even if he weren’t Daniel knew Jack would have ordered him to hold his fire. They couldn’t risk the princess being killed._

_The bad guys dialed the Gate and made their escape – minus their injured colleagues - firing their energy weapons randomly as they went but thankfully failing to hit anyone._

_Naturally, Colonel O’Neill had led his team through the event horizon in hot pursuit. Daniel had been last through, still wincing and clutching his ribs, only just making it before the Gate disconnected._

_As they arrived on the new planet, the sight of the princess making a spirited bid for freedom greeted them. A struggle ensued during which she twisted from her captor’s grasp, making him stumble. He snatched at her leg and she went down hard, her dainty foot twisting in his huge hand and making a sharp snapping sound. Her shriek of pain was cut short when her head struck a rock, and she was rendered unconscious._

_While Jack and the others had engaged the hostiles, joined now by the guy on the horse who had obviously been awaiting their return, Daniel had rushed over to the princess. Thus Daniel had been out of range when Ratface had triggered the force field that encircled the others, effectively halting their resistance. Daniel barely had time to register their plight when Ratface lassoed him and declared that since the princess couldn’t walk, Daniel’s life would be spared in order to carry her..._

...He’d been carrying her ever since, until the order had been given to stop and rest for the night. Rest. Ha! If only.

**Mendan Settlement**

As Jack had predicted, the locals were pretty tight lipped when questioned, although the youth cleaning tables had let slip that there was a fortress on the far side of the Great Wood. Mention of the bastion caused a tense hush to fall on the tavern, and the colonel was unable to establish who lived there or what they might want with an alien Princess.

When pressed, the boy had asserted that there was no shortcut; the fortress could only be reached by traveling through the woodland.

 _‘No chance of getting ahead and setting up a trap for the kidnappers,’_ thought Jack ruefully.

Nor would anyone give them an indication of how far away it was, or how quickly it could be reached. Daniel and the princess may already be locked inside its fortifications, or they could be days away, lost in the dense cover of the trees.

On the matter of the horses, however, they fared much better. A farrier had three fine steeds that he was willing to hire out to the newcomers. Since they had yet to find a planet that would accept US currency in payment, the team had taken to carrying odd trinkets that Daniel declared to be of no historical significance to use as barter. Thus far, they had found it worked remarkably well.

The matter of recompense for the use of the horses would be decided upon their return, depending on the time elapsed and the condition of said animals. Meantime, their owner accepted a gold signet ring as deposit.

Sam promised they would take good care of them.

In order to ensure she kept her word on that, the blacksmith, who introduced himself as Ruygan, insisted that the trio rest as his guests until morning.

In addition to feeling the urgency of their mission, Jack was convinced it was a trap - that Ruygan was in league with the kidnappers and they would be killed or captured if they stayed. Teal’c concurred, but Sam reasoned that the horses could get lost or injured in the dark, which would cost them time they were trying to save.

“Besides,” she reminded them softly, “we’ll be sleeping in shifts.”

It was SOP when off world in potentially hostile territory to have someone remain on guard while the others rested.

“Assuming they haven’t drugged the food,” mumbled Jack, suddenly losing his appetite for the meal so generously provided by the innkeeper in exchange for only a simple necklace.

“Even if they had introduced a sleeping draft into the food, my symbiote should enable me to override any adverse effects,” Teal’c assured the colonel.

Jack had to keep reminding himself that the Jaffa didn’t sleep. He didn’t even need to do his meditation thing, _kel-no-dream or whatever-it-was_ , every night. Should his teammates be rendered senseless, the big guy was quite capable of standing watch all night.

Reluctantly, Jack agreed that they could use a nap after their exertions digging their way out of the force field, but insisted that they should get as early a start as possible. Colonel O’Neill did not take kindly to people hauling members of his team off with a rope around their necks, however loosely it hung there.

**The woods at dawn**

Daniel couldn’t really claim to have slept at all. He didn’t feel in the least rested when Valton declared at first light that it was time to break fast and head off once more.

“We all know what’s at stake if we don’t deliver our cargo on time,” he reminded his troops.

Daniel mentally filed this piece of information away for future reference. These guys were working for somebody else – a big boss they were afraid to cross. Daniel wasn’t looking forward to being delivered. Especially since it was obviously the princess they’d been contracted to procure. With hindsight, it was clear that the threat on Ro’Pita’s life back on Salverit had been a bluff. On the other hand Daniel’s presence was incidental, and his usefulness would expire once they arrived. He fully expected to be summarily executed at that point. Except that the others were bound to turn up and rescue them first. He was surprised they hadn’t already done so, but it was just a matter of time.

The Mendans had taken turns on guard duty through the hours of darkness, but even so they had all slept better than Daniel. Though not keen to get up and resume the trek, none of them complained as they heated up more rations, and something that smelt tantalizingly akin to coffee.

Daniel would have been drooling if only his mouth wasn’t so dry.

Breakfast for the captives was, predictably, a repeat of last night’s supper. The only concession was that Folcan untied them first, so that they could feed themselves. At gunpoint, and with Folcan holding the end of the rope noose, Daniel slid down the tree to sit next to the princess, grateful beyond measure to get the weight off his feet for a few precious moments. He almost lost his meager repast when he was struck with a violent case of pins and needles in his arms and hands, the circulation having returned after hours of numbness. He ached all over, made worse by the fact that in stark contrast to the heat of the day, the night had been unpleasantly cold. He’d spent much of it shivering and wishing his jacket wasn’t lying on the ground under the princess’s injured ankle. He was chilled to the bone.

On the plus side, the morning didn’t seem to hold the threat of such a hot day as the previous one. On the down side, the sky was overcast and there was already a light drizzle that could easily become a downpour.

All too soon Folcan forced Daniel to his feet, ordered him to put his jacket back on and pick up the princess, and the route march resumed.

**Mendan settlement**

True to his word, Jack rose even before the sun did. By the time there was sufficient light in the sky to see their way safely, the innkeeper had packed them up with fresh provisions for the journey and Ruygan had saddled the horses. They were ready and eager to be off.

Sam thanked Ruygan and the innkeeper for their help. Considering the hostility of the men who’d led them here, the folks at the inn had been extremely hospitable, if somewhat unforthcoming.

Fortunately, the village wasn’t far from the Gate, and they made good time returning to the point where their quarry had entered the woods. Unfortunately, the fine rain that had begun almost as soon as they set out was already getting heavier. They all knew what that meant. Any tracks would soon get obliterated.

“Darn it. I knew we should have got right on their trail soon as we found it,” grumbled the colonel, his concern for Daniel and the princess increasing by the moment.

“I believe the advantages of waiting until we had procured mounts still outweigh those of traveling through the night on foot, O’Neill.” Teal’c leant over the neck of his horse and studied the ground. “The trees may help to protect the signs of their passage for a while.”

“Then let’s get on it!” Jack squeezed his legs round his horse’s flanks, urging it forward.


	5. Lunch break

**Deep in the woods**

By mid-morning the rain was torrential and the seven Mendans were as soaked through as their two captives. The pace had slowed somewhat as their boots squelched in mud, making them feel as if they were wading through treacle. Valton continually berated them all for their tardiness, though he too was being more cautious as his horse struggled with the worsening conditions.

As before, Daniel was periodically permitted to adjust the position in which he carried the princess, but one way or another he was carrying her the whole time. As her thick winter clothing absorbed the deluge, she got heavier and heavier with each passing hour. So too did the rope around Daniel’s neck.

Despite the absence of the blistering sun, Daniel was still sweating from the exertion. He had a tense; nagging headache that he was sure was due in part to dehydration.

From time to time he licked his lips, drinking greedily from the rainwater that dripped off his sodden hair and ran down his cheeks. It was slightly salty where it was mingled with his perspiration, but welcome nonetheless to slake his thirst a little. He encouraged the princess to do likewise.

Daniel’s spirits were dampened even more than his clothes. He too knew that the weather would make it harder for Teal’c to track him. No matter how deep the footprints he made, they would likely be washed away before his friends caught up. He could only hope that they weren’t too far behind, and do his best to leave clues in broken foliage and threads caught on rough bark wherever possible.

At first Ro’Pita complained vociferously as she’d done the previous day. She was wet, she was uncomfortable, her ankle hurt, her hair was a mess, her petticoats were torn etc etc etc. Daniel had found himself having to placate Folcan several times to keep him from striking her, or getting prodded or slapped himself for his trouble. As the day went on, Daniel’s patience wore thin and he was defending her less and less. He knew she couldn’t help having been raised to get her own way in everything, but surely even she could see by now that her expectations of privilege and pampering were not going to be met by these goons no matter how much she commanded them.

Finally, his tolerance was exhausted much like the rest of him, and when she whined that she was starving to death and demanded to be fed, he snapped.

“Sheesh you’re _the most_ self-centered person I’ve ever met! Reality check, Princess. These guys don’t give a damn about your demands, your wants or your needs. You’re nothing more than ‘cargo’ to them. So do us both a favor and knock off the bleating before Folcan here hits me so hard I drop you, okay?”

Ro’Pita squealed in indignation.

“We had thought you were different, _Daniel,_ ” again she spat his name as if it were an insult, punching his arm in annoyance.  “But you are just as mean and insensitive as these ruffians. We don’t like you anymore and we want to go home!”

 _That makes three of us!_  Daniel thought wryly. She should try trading places with him – she wouldn’t last five minutes.

“This isn’t exactly a picnic for me you know, Princess, but you don’t hear me complaining every five minutes. I know better than to waste my breath. You haven’t the first idea what hardship is!”

“Silence! We will not tolerate such insolence. Do not address us again until you can be nice to us.”

They trudged on in silence for a while, broken only by the occasional sob from a quietly weeping princess. If she was trying to make Daniel feel guilty for his outburst, she was succeeding. He had been rather harsh. She really _couldn’t_ help it. She’d never known anything but being treated as someone special and superior and was now way out of her comfort zone - as was he.

“Forgive me, Highness, for my insensitivity. I didn’t sleep well and I get cranky when I’m tired.”

Ro’Pita didn’t respond, but she sniffed and stopped crying. She didn’t speak again until they stopped for a brief lunch break many hours later. It seemed that, as on Salverit, a ‘day’ on this planet was much longer than twenty-four Earth hours.

The Mendans found what shelter they could from the incessant rain. There were no campfires this time, only hastily eaten cold rations.

Daniel was instructed to sit the princess on a fallen log and position himself behind her so that their backs provided some mutual support. Though this meant they were out in the open and still getting drenched, he was inordinately grateful to relinquish his burden for a while and get the weight off his weary feet. He rubbed his aching shoulders and neck, wishing he could shuck off the rope, even for a minute. It felt like a heavy yoke around his neck and was rubbing the flesh raw under his shaggy hair.

Folcan gave them both more dry biscuits and water, eating his own meal under cover of a tree at a slight distance but keeping them under armed guard. Not that Daniel had the energy to make a break for it – with or without the princess. Daniel was really glad that Ro’Pita didn’t demand he give her his share. He’d have felt compelled to let her have it, but he was so darned hungry he’d have been less than gracious about it. Especially since _he_ was the one doing all the work!

Daniel made sure that not a single crumb escaped his ravenous lips; afraid that even the little they were being fed might be withdrawn on a whim. He decided that he wouldn’t be so quick to disparage MREs in future. At least they were reasonably sustaining. His stomach growled in disappointment at the inadequacy of his offering.

Ro’Pita’s stomach gave an answering rumble.

She giggled.

Daniel twisted around to look at her, groaning softly at the strain on his back.

She had twisted too to look at him. She was smiling as their intestines gurgled again in perfect harmony.

Daniel smiled back. “You should smile more often, Highness,” he told her. “It makes you look prettier.”

She ducked her head and lowered her eyes shyly, tucking a stray lock of sopping wet blond hair behind her ear.

“We like your smile too,” she told him softly, blushing.

Daniel was fidgeting with his hands. He felt himself color as well. He told himself it was the perspiration, but the way she was looking at him made him uncomfortable. He was technically old enough to be her father, but he was starting to think Jack’s accusation had some foundation. The girl probably did have a slight crush on him. Oh, man, this could get awkward. He changed the subject.

“Does that mean I’m forgiven, Highness?”

Ro’Pita tilted her head to one side as she pretended to consider her answer. After a few moments’ silence she declared, “We accept your apology.”

Daniel figured that on past form, he was lucky to get that much of a concession.

“Thank you, Highness.”

Valton strode over and nudged his brother to his feet. Then he turned to the prisoners, grabbing Daniel’s rope.

“We don’t have time for you two to indulge in cozy chats. On your feet, we’re way behind schedule.” He gave the rope a tug.

“Argh!” Daniel felt the pull on his sore neck and had to scramble to his feet to avoid being yanked to the ground. As he rose the muscles in his lower back twinged, protesting the awkward movement. “Oww, okay, I’m up.” Daniel put a hand to his back, grimacing.

Ro’Pita watched as Daniel moved stiffly around to a position from which he could lift her up. He was frowning in discomfort. Instead of her usual indifference, she raised her arms and did what she could to make it easier for him.

Daniel smiled his gratitude. Perhaps his previous harsh words had struck a chord after all.

**On the trail**

“I believe this is where they rested for the night, O’Neill,” Teal’c declared. He had dismounted and was examining the saturated remains of the campfire, which the Mendans had made no attempt to hide.

“So we’re still more than a half-day behind them,” Jack deduced. “We need to shorten their lead before nightfall.”

“Seems like the days are longer here, sir,” Sam pointed out, looking up for confirmation from a sign of the sun’s passage across the sky, but finding only dark water-laden clouds in every direction. “I want to catch up with them and get Daniel back as much as anyone, but I think we should take a few minutes to rest the horses. We’ve been pushing them pretty hard.”

Jack’s chestnut mare tossed her head up and down as if in agreement.

“Fine, we’ll take ten,” Jack conceded, getting off his horse.

Valton would have approved of his commitment.

They didn’t bother trying to light a fire, there wasn’t a dry stick to be found anywhere and they were in too much of a hurry. Since they had their packs with them, they were better equipped than Daniel to cope with the inclement weather, and had all donned waterproof ponchos and headgear. Even so, the damp was seeping into places they would just as soon remain dry.

While Sam rustled up some instant rations, Teal’c fed all three horses with oats from his saddlebag, which Ruygan had carefully filled with provisions for his livestock.

Jack wandered around impatiently as he chewed on an energy bar. He found himself examining the area around a large-trunked tree.

“Carter, take a look at this!”

Sam hurried over and took some fibers from the colonel.

“There’s more here, look.” Jack reached up and picked a few threads from a branch.

“Hemp, from a rope,” pronounced the captain looking miserable. “Looks like Daniel and Ro’Pita were tied to this tree overnight.”

“While we were snug and cozy in our soft warm beds at the inn,” Jack threw the strands of rope down in disgust, scowling. He marched back over to his horse and stroked her neck; trying to calm the rage he felt building up inside him.

Teal’c and Sam both recognized the body language. The bad guys had better watch out when Colonel O’Neill caught up with them. Jack might just as well have declared aloud, “This means war!”

Instead he said sharply, “We’re done here. Mount up.”


	6. Marking time

**Deeper in the woods**

Mid-afternoon and the pace was still brutal, the deluge relentless. Daniel ached from head to toe and his shoulders burned with the strain of carrying the princess. Despite the soggy mud that squelched underfoot and clung to his boots, every step felt to Daniel like he was treading on hot coals. His socks felt as if they were rubbing his skin raw with friction.

As Daniel shifted the Princess yet again to another position, the muscles in his back went into spasm.

“Aah! Grab my neck, Highness!” Daniel warned as he struggled to keep to his feet. Fortunately she was still in a helpful frame of mind, and instead of shrieking at him for almost dropping her, Ro’Pita did her best to distribute her weight evenly for him.

“Hurry up!” ordered Valton crossly.

Daniel staggered drunkenly for a few paces, but somehow managed to keep both the Princess and himself upright. After a moment or two the spasm ceased, leaving him with a bone deep ache across his lumbar region, but there was absolutely no chance of relief. The march resumed.

“We are grateful you did not drop us, Daniel,” Ro’Pita acknowledged. “Especially as it seems you are exhausted and in considerable pain, are you not?”

“I am, Highness.” _Thank you for noticing at last!_

“We do not understand. You are not one of our subjects and therefore are not bound by oath to our service. Why then do you continue to carry us?”

“That’s easy, Highness. These guys have made it quite clear my only function is to help them get you to their boss. If I say I can’t carry you any more, they’ll kill me on the spot. So, arh... if it’s all the same to you, Highness, I’d rather be dead tired than just plain dead.”

“It would not please us if Daniel were to die,” Ro’Pita declared emphatically. He noticed she was saying his name normally now.

“No, I’m sure it wouldn’t. Your Highness would have to walk then.” Daniel grimaced. In fact, it was more likely that Valton would throw her over his saddle for speed. He wouldn’t have the patience to wait while she hobbled along on a broken ankle, maybe falling over every few paces, or sitting down and refusing to budge. In fact - now he thought about it - that was probably Valton’s original plan, to have her ride up with him, since Daniel’s involvement had been incidental. Even uninjured, she would be easier to control that way.

“We will overlook your rudeness, _this time,_ since we can see you are suffering. But we are actually not as selfish as Daniel accuses. Were it not for our injured ankle, we would offer to walk a little to spare you the burden of constantly carrying us.”

Hitherto, she had acted as if he should feel privileged to be carrying her. Daniel looked at her in surprise and was amazed to see sincerity in her eyes. Maybe she was starting to learn a little.

“My apologies, Highness. I spoke out of frustration and pain. I truly appreciate the sentiment behind your generous offer, even if it isn’t possible to take advantage of it.”

“Perhaps it is just as well,” the princess conceded. “If we were able to walk for ourselves, these ruffians would no doubt dispense with Daniel. That would make us sad.”

“I wouldn’t be too happy about it myself!”

**Elsewhere in the woods**

It had been hours since SG-1 – minus one - had come upon the fallen log where Daniel had hastily managed to carve his initials using the edge of a cent, which he’d dropped as he’d been pulled roughly to his feet. Teal’c theorized that this had been where their prey stopped for a quick lunch. For evidence he cited odd fragments of a waxy paper, which from the smell had presumably been used as a food wrapping.

Though the trail held further such subtle clues, still they were no nearer to finding the hostages or their kidnappers.

“You were right about the length of the day, Carter,” Jack looked at his watch, which was set to Earth time. “It should be well and truly dark by now, but there’s no more sign of night than there is of this damned rain letting up.”

They dismounted again to rest the horses for a few moments while Teal’c studied the vanishing trail.

For the most part, their quarry seemed to be following a narrow pathway through the woods. It was obviously a route that had been carved out by frequent passage, rather than deliberate construction, but it was a recognizable – if somewhat waterlogged - track nonetheless. However, from time to time the group veered off the beaten path and disappeared further into the dense forest. Teal’c didn’t think it was a deliberate attempt to hide their passing. They seemed confident that they wouldn’t be followed judging by the carelessness with which they broke camp.

“They’re probably just trying to get a bit of shelter from this torrential rain,” commented Sam.

Leading their mounts, they picked their way through the trees, Teal’c out front as he studied the ground and the foliage for signs of recent activity. Before long, the clues let them back out onto the main path.

“The leader does not dismount, so they can make better time out in the open,” Teal’c declared.

“We need to make better time too,” Jack insisted, climbing back into the saddle.

It was taking far too long to hunt these guys down. There were seven of them, plus their two prisoners, and all but one were on foot. Daniel was still carrying the princess, a fact confirmed at intervals by Teal’c when he found a deep imprint of SGC issue boot. They should be moving far slower than their pursuers. Jack didn’t understand why they hadn’t yet sighted the group.

“They must be marching at a heck of a pace,” Jack observed. “I don’t know how much longer this day’s gonna last, but surely they can’t keep going at this rate indefinitely?”

“Daniel Jackson most certainly cannot,” Teal’c confirmed. “See here,” he leant down over the neck of his horse and pointed. “The footprints are haphazard, as if he stumbled.”

Sam gasped. “Do you think he’s okay?”

“There are no indications that he fell, Captain Carter,” the Jaffa reassured her.

They urged their weary steeds onwards.


	7. Closing In

**Nightfall**

Daniel had completely given up trying to keep track of time. This planet’s ‘day’ felt as if it had lasted a week by the time Valton finally called a halt. Daniel was pretty sure it hadn’t actually been _that_ long, but it had definitely been way more than twenty-four Earth hours since they’d last stopped to ‘rest’ for the night.

Daniel couldn’t bear the prospect of a repeat tomorrow. For the past hour or so, he’d been more or less asleep on his feet, trudging along on ‘automatic pilot’ without conscious thought beyond not falling over. His rain-soaked face felt chilled, but the rest of him was sweltering. He barely had the energy to eat his biscuits. He felt awful.

As with the previous night, Daniel was tied to the biggest tree in an upright position, having bound the princess first as lightly as he dare. This tree was not quite as wide in girth as the last one, but just as uncomfortable for all that. He was even more exhausted than before but sleep was every bit as elusive.

Being drenched to the bone, the nighttime drop in temperature was felt all the more keenly, though to her credit Ro’Pita had refused to let Daniel surrender his jacket to cushion her foot. Instead, she managed to wriggle out of one of her petticoats and had him bunch that up. The patch of moss she was sitting on, being sheltered under the trees, was considerably better than the muddy puddle they’d been expecting, but still damp enough to be far from comfortable. Daniel was surprised she wasn’t complaining vociferously. In fact she was remarkably quiet and pensive.

An hour or so after the rain finally stopped, Daniel was roused by something touching him and a hissing noise. It turned out to be the princess whispering urgently as she nudged his leg with her elbow.

“Wha--?” Awareness returned suddenly and painfully.

“We heard you choking, Daniel,” Ro’Pita explained.

Daniel could feel the noose had tightened around his neck. He must have dozed off and drooped down. His arms felt as if they were about to be ripped out of their sockets.

Fighting for breath, he forced himself to stand straighter against the trunk.

“Thank you, Highness,” he croaked hoarsely. Had she not woken him...

Daniel blinked hard, not wanting to think about what had nearly happened.

“We have been contemplating at length about what you said to us. We are trying to think of others as well as ourselves. We have decided that we do still like Daniel after all and we do not want you to be hung. Besides, we are scared and lonely.”

Daniel’s mouth twisted between a grimace and a smile. She’d been doing so well until that last bit. Still, old habits die hard and all that. She’d come a long way and he had to give her credit for that. She had just saved his life, which was pretty amazing whatever her motivation.

The rope pressed against Daniel’s Adam’s apple and rubbed against his neck. He had to strain to stand as upright as possible to reduce the tension on the noose and on his arms. He winced as pains shot through the length of his body and down his legs.

“We know you are extremely tired, Daniel, but we shall talk to you to keep you awake. We fear that if you sleep you will die. We understand that it would cause you pain to answer us and will not take it as insolence.”

Talking was just about possible but only in a wheezing whisper and with a great deal of discomfort. Both breathing and swallowing were difficult. Nodding was a no-no too. Even though the watery moon had risen, it was too dark for him to communicate effectively with blinks. He flexed his knee to show his acknowledgement of her offer.

Ro’Pita had what she liked best, a captive audience to whom she could talk at length, usually about herself. This time was different, however. Her monologue did not consist entirely of what she wanted, and how honored her listeners should be to provide it for her. Instead, she told Daniel how she had grown to respect him, even before the current disastrous turn of events, and how she had learned so much from him.

Her speech was peppered with yawns, and odd little whimpers as the discomfort of her confinement and her injuries caused her distress. For the most part, though, her concern was that Daniel kept moving his knee periodically to reassure her he was still awake and still breathing.

Daniel ached in every muscle. Even his eyelids hurt with the strain of staying open. He felt as if he had a really bad case of flu. Yet he concentrated on the sound of Ro’Pita’s voice, and forced his leg to respond at intervals. Once or twice the exhaustion became so overwhelming, as did the dread of going through it all again come daylight, that he was tempted to give in and let the noose take his suffering away. Such morbid thoughts were fleeting. The princess’ words reminded him that – subject or not – he had a responsibility to protect her. Besides, the rest of the team would be rescuing them any time now.

**Meanwhile...**

Jack acknowledged Carter’s concerns about pushing the horses too hard. He was pretty saddle-sore himself and would have appreciated a couple of hours’ shuteye without the constant movement of equine muscles beneath him.

But at dusk Teal’c had postulated that they were catching up and were now not far behind their quarry. A few more hours and they should be within weapons range.

Jack wasn’t about to let them maintain that lead. He felt the reproach of every staggering footprint they found. He was determined to liberate Daniel and the princess as quickly as possible.

He ordered the others to keep going.

At long last, they saw the light of the Mendan campfire in the distance.

Sam was left to tie up the horses, so as not to alert the enemy with the sound of snorting, while Teal’c and Jack scouted ahead. They peered around the cover of a large tree, using their night-vision goggles to determine which of the bad guys were awake, and where they were in relation to the captives.

Jack honed in on the tree to which Daniel and Ro’Pita were bound. He adjusted the focus, wanting to be sure he didn’t see what he was afraid he saw. His body tensed. He tapped Teal’c’s shoulder and pointed.

“Those sonsofbitches have murdered Daniel,” he growled lowly, cursing himself for having taken too long to get here. “They’ve hung him from that tree!”

Fearing that the colonel was about to charge in on a murderous rampage of revenge, Teal’c put a restraining hand on Jack’s shoulder while he sought to test the assertion.

“Daniel Jackson lives,” he declared softly after a moment. “He is moving his left knee.”

Jack shucked off Teal’c’s grip and looked again. He saw no such movement. “Ya sure?”

“Indeed. We must proceed with caution to ensure Daniel Jackson’s survival is not compromised.”

At that moment Captain Carter caught up with them, surprising Jack with her silent arrival.

“Good, Carter, you’re here. Right, this is what we’re gonna do...” decided Colonel O’Neill, gesturing to them to follow his example and shuck off their now redundant wet weather gear. They were going to need the added maneuverability.

**The campsite**

Daniel’s eyes were playing tricks on him. Dehydration, pain and weariness were making him hallucinate. He thought he caught a movement in the woods. It was probably just an animal of some sort. There had to be some local fauna; though he’d not been aware of any during their trek. Not that he’d been thinking about it, he’d had more pressing concerns. What made him doubt his sight and his sanity was that for a moment, a very brief moment, he’d thought he’d seen a glimmer of blond hair reflected in the pale moonlight. Specifically: Captain Samantha Carter’s blond hair.

Could it really be his friend Sam? Could Jack and Teal’c be with her? Could his nightmare really be almost over? Problem was, he’d fancied he’d seen signs of them so many times during the endless hours of his ordeal that he didn’t dare hope that this time it was for real. Wishful thinking only led to disappointment.

Daniel strained his eyes scanning around for another sighting. He tried not to be despondent that he saw nothing. If they _were_ out there sneaking up on the bad guys, then the whole point was _not_ to be seen. They were skilled at their craft. Jack may not want to signal their presence to Daniel, lest he inadvertently give them away with his reaction.

While Daniel was still trying to decide whether or not he’d been imagining the glimpse of Sam’s hair, the slumbering campsite suddenly came alive with the sound of zat-guns.

Folcan, who’d been on guard duty, was zatted into unconsciousness, instantly followed by the two Mendans nearest to him. The noise woke the remaining marauders, but three were out before they’d had time to sit up. That only left Valton. He‘d leapt to his feet and was heading toward the princess, a large dagger in his hand. He made it about halfway before he too was rendered senseless by a well-aimed zat.

Despite the painful restriction of the noose, Daniel almost cheered aloud. He managed a broad grin in appreciation of SG-1’s masterful attack. The Mendans truly hadn’t known what hit them. It was almost too easy.

Then he heard movement behind him. The need for stealth was past, replaced by the need for speed.

“Hold still, Daniel, we’re gonna get you loose,” Sam’s voice sounded reassuringly in his ear.

Soon, Daniel and the princess had been divested of the ropes, which Teal’c was putting to good use to bind the kidnappers together back to back in a huddle.

Daniel instinctively moved to lift Ro’Pita up but pitched forwards with a rasping wheeze. He would have fallen over had Jack not caught him and put a supporting shoulder under his arm.


	8. Two sides to every story

“Easy there, Tiger.” Jack led Daniel over to a large tree stump near the campfire and set him down gently to warm up and dry out. “Rest up a minute while we take care of business.”

The colonel gestured to Sam to look after Daniel, then moved off to assist Teal’c. He wanted to be sure the threat was properly neutralized.

Sam set down her backpack and began rummaging for her med kit. Daniel drew in a deep breath, which turned to a hacking cough when he let it out. The smoky atmosphere from the campfire was not entirely to blame.

Sam stopped herself from asking Daniel if he was okay. He was clearly a long way from okay. Instead, she unscrewed her canteen and handed it to him.

Daniel drank eagerly - though his arm felt like lead when he lifted it - ‘til she admonished him, “Slowly, Daniel, or you’ll make yourself sick.”

Knowing it was wise counsel; he reluctantly put the bottle down.

“Better?” Sam tilted her head on one side, examining the raw wounds around Daniel’s throat, feeling his feverish forehead and frowning.

“Thanks,” he croaked. “I’ll be okay.” He waved an arm vaguely in the direction of Ro’Pita. “Take care... Princess... ankle...”

Nodding in understanding, Sam handed Daniel a tube of salve. “Rub this on your neck, it’ll soothe and it’s antiseptic.”

Daniel applied it gratefully, glancing up at his teammates busying themselves around him. He was glad Jack had relegated him to the sidelines. He hadn’t the energy to help out even if so ordered. He was weary beyond words and wanted nothing more than to keel over and go to sleep, but somehow at the same time he felt too restless and agitated. They still weren’t safe. He had to stay alert. The supremely capable Colonel O’Neill may be there now to take charge, but Daniel daren’t rest on his laurels. Somewhere at the back of his weary mind was the knowledge that they weren’t on Salverit anymore. Unless Ro’Pita knew the gate address for Menda, which he seriously doubted, he would have to work out how to dial home. Oh Sam was smart, he was sure she could do it too. She’d been getting more adept over the past two years. But she was more used to computer programs and algorithms. It would take her longer...

 _‘Stop it, Jackson,’_ he admonished himself.

Daniel took a hitching breath. His mind was running rampant. What _was_ he thinking? That he was indispensible? Hardly. He was just too damned tired to think straight. Maybe he _should_ just catch forty winks while he could. His eyelids were drooping, too heavy to stay open.

Then again, they were still in enemy territory; he didn’t want to put the rest of the team in danger hauling his sorry ass out of there.

The thought drew his attention back to the activity across the other side of the fire. Folcan had regained consciousness, and Jack had him covered with his own energy weapon.

“Give me back my weapon,” demanded Folcan, struggling against his bonds.

“Consider it confiscated,” Jack barked back.

“These’ll make the brass back home happy,” Jack told Teal’c, nodding at the strange gun. “New tech for the nerds to back-engineer. New weapons for our arsenal against the Goa’uld.”

“Indeed,” Teal’c responded, leveling his staff weapon toward the wriggling captive.

“My brother will kill you for this,” Folcan threatened, not realizing that Valton was bound and still out for the count behind him.

“I oughta kill _you_ for what you’ve put Daniel through, all of you!” Jack aimed the weapon at Folcan’s heart, assuming he had one, and fingered the unfamiliar trigger.

Daniel was touched by Jack’s reaction, but couldn’t have seven deaths on his conscience. He would never get used to Jack’s ‘shoot first and ask questions later’ attitude. There were two sides to every story.

“No, Jack!’ Daniel yelled as loud as his sore throat would allow. It was enough to have the colonel turn and look in his direction, frowning as his friend coughed and reached for the canteen.

“Nobody treats one of my team like this!” Jack asserted, steadying his aim.

“No!” Daniel took a couple of quick sips of the cool clear water. “Please Jack,” he begged, “Don’t kill them.”

“You might as well kill us,” the heavy-set Mendan was awake now, and the others were stirring too.

“Silence, Torg,” ordered Valton.

“It’s true. If we go back to the fortress without the princess, Emperor Drogor will kill us all anyway, so what’s the difference?”

Daniel thought the name Drogor sounded familiar, but he was sure it wasn’t one of the Goa’uld system lords they had encountered. His headache was too intense for him to try and figure it out right now.

Jack’s interest was piqued in spite of himself. He prodded the guy next to Folcan. “You, what’s the story? What does this “Drogor” of yours want with Princess Pain in the butt anyway?”

“None of your business,” snarled Valton, earning him a right hook from Teal’c.

“Hold your tongue,” the Jaffa instructed him.

“You. Speak,” Teal’c commanded the Mendan that the colonel had addressed.

The guy looked nervously to Folcan, who nodded, “Tell them, Runalf.”

“He is not ‘our’ Emperor Drogor,” the one called Runalf began. “He and his men arrived in a huge vessel many seasons ago.”

“Let me guess, he brought these weapons with him,” Jack assumed. Like Daniel, he had noted the curious mix of simple farming folk like Ruygan and advanced technology.

“We’ve always been a peaceful community. We traded crops, livestock, textiles and such with our neighbors on Salverit and Nopatia through the _spinrock_. We were content. Then Drogor crashed landed here, on the far side of the Great Wood. He adapted his wrecked ship into a fortress, set himself up as Emperor and enslaved our people.”

“He entrusts his slaves with weapons that might overpower him?” Teal’c queried. “Why did you not simply rid yourself of the intruder?”

“Hey, T!” Jack nudged the big guy. “Not so long ago you were wielding that staff weapon for the guy that enslaved _you_ , remember?”

Teal’c inclined his head. “Your point is well taken, O’Neill.”

He turned back to the captives, “But why did he not send one of his own with you on this mission to ensure your obedience?”

“He did,” Folcan told them, “You killed him back on Salverit.”

Runalf went on to tell them how Drogor and his crew were the only survivors of a world destroyed by the Goa’uld. Their ship was damaged in the escape attempt and they limped it to Menda. Convinced the Goa’uld want to track him down, his plan was to conquer all three planets, building an army to defend against attack and defeat the enemy who robbed him of his home world.

“We knew nothing of these Goa’uld before Drogor came,” put in one of the other Mendans. “Now he’s going to bring them here to wipe us out like they did his people. He’s crazy.”

“Quiet, Bildan,” ordered Valton nervously, as if afraid Drogor would somehow hear them.

“Your friend was right about him giving us the weapons,” Runalf commented. “Drogor needs us because his own troops are limited in number, but he isn’t very big on trust. Which is why he wants the princess.”

“Because of her gift,” guessed Daniel, rubbing at his aching lower back.

“Exactly. He ensures _our_ loyalty by holding our loved ones captive. He cannot do that for a whole army. He needs to be certain nobody is plotting against him. The princess’ ability to sense whether or not someone speaks the truth is well known to be completely infallible. She cannot be deceived.”

“What would prevent _her_ from deceiving him, though?” Jack wanted to know. Trust the colonel to look for the double-cross.

“He has planted some of his men as spies in the marketplace on Salverit; far enough from the palace not to alert her Highness to their machinations. They have orders that if he does not contact them regularly to say all is well, they are to kill the King.”

Ro’Pita, who had endured quietly while Sam tended her ankle and head, now squealed loudly in horror. “Father!”

“Calm down, Highness, he’s in no immediate danger,” Carter reassured her. She helped the princess to her feet and supported her as she hopped over to join Daniel sitting on the huge tree stump.

“Jack, we _have_ to help these people,” Daniel decided, still rubbing at his back.

Jack turned to him, his face in the firelight clearly reflecting the thought that along with his weapons, captivity had robbed Daniel of his wits.

“You gotta be kidding me, Daniel. Look at the state of you. Have you forgotten they’re the ones who did that to you?” Jack was incredulous. He looked to the nearest thing they had to a medic. “Carter, is he outta his mind?”

“Daniel _is_ running a high temperature, sir, so he could well be delirious. However, in this instance, I think he’s right.”

Jack’s jaw dropped and he turned to the huge Jaffa warrior by his side for some support. “Teal’c?”

Teal’c inclined his head and paused for a long moment in contemplation. “It would seem that the real threat here is this Emperor Drogor. I have heard you state before O’Neill that _the enemy of my enemy is_ -“

“- _my friend_ ,” Jack finished with him. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I guess Boy Scout Jackson here is right.”


	9. Friend or foe?

Jack addressed Folcan, “How long we got ‘til this Drogor guy gets antsy ‘bout you not turning up?”

“We must deliver the princess to him by loss of sun on the morrow after morrow. Else my wife will pay with her life, as will Valton’s, and Revan’s son--”

“—Okay, I get it.” Jack waved off the list. “So, we have two whole local days,” Jack nodded to himself. “Right, here’s the plan. Teal’c, you stay here and find out all you can about this ‘fortress’ from our new friends.”

“As you wish, O’Neill,” Teal’c nodded.

“This Drogor is _not_ gonna get his hands on the princess. We’ll take her home with us and get that ankle properly sorted. I’ll round up some reinforcements and together we’ll take this Drogor out.”

Valton looked skeptical. “You have an army at your disposal?”

“Air force actually,” Jack shot back with a grin, “but we don’t need a whole army. Trust us, we’ve done this sort of thing before.”

“Why _should_ we trust you? If this fails our families will die. We have much to lose. And what of you? What do you gain from helping us?”

“We’re not gonna let that happen. But it’s a fair question.” Jack shot a pointed look at Daniel, “Aside from knowing we’ve rid the universe of one more bad guy? The satisfaction of getting your families re-united? Well, for starters there’s these energy weapons, and hopefully there’ll be more good stuff in that ‘fortress’ that we can put to better use than you guys.”

Daniel cleared his throat and glared meaningfully at Jack. He knew Jack wasn’t really against helping these people, or just out for new weapons and technology. He knew Jack well enough to be certain that he wouldn’t stand by and see their families suffer, especially when innocent children were involved. Jack just liked to play tough guy. Plus he was ticked off with Daniel for needing rescuing again, so he liked to needle him. At some point there would probably be the barbed comment about saving the ‘damsel in distress,’ oh and Ro’Pita too. Daniel was used to it. The gruff exterior didn’t fool him; he knew how much of a softie Jack could be underneath. Just as much of a sucker for a good cause as Daniel, even if he’d die rather than admit it openly.

“Oh yeah, and we get a whole planet full of grateful new friends. We’re real big on _seeking out new life forms and new civilizations_ aren’t we, Carter?”

The captain nodded as she stifled a giggle at her superior officer’s Star Trek quote.

“So, what’s it to be?” Jack asked Folcan, gesturing with the energy weapon, “Friend or foe?”

“It would seem we’re in no position to refuse, _friend,_ ” Valton responded, trying to assert his position as leader even in defeat.

“Sensible decision,” Jack shook his head as if to say – _sensible for them, but what about us?_

Daniel could just hear Jack asking him, “What have you gotten us into this time?”

Jack took Teal’c to one side and instructed quietly, “Keep ‘em tied up ‘til we get a good head start, just in case they decide to renege on our new alliance. If and when you think it’s safe to trust them, set ‘em loose and head for the fortress. If not, come alone. I’ll get Hammond to assign some men and we’ll meet you there.”

Teal’c inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“Okay, campers, let’s get this show on the road,” Jack walked around the fire to Valton’s horse and retrieved Daniel’s weapons and watch from the saddlebag, returning them to their owner.

“C’mon Daniel, let’s get the princess home.”

“Then can I have a nice long soak in a hot tub?” Daniel fastened his watch around his wrist, pleased to have it back.

“Sure. You okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. My feet hurt, I ache all over, and I’m so tired I wanna sleep for oh, about a month, but I’m fine. Oh, did I mention my feet hurt?”

Daniel stood up to follow his friends out of the camp. He took one staggering step, wincing at the white-hot agony throbbing through his feet. His knees buckled but Jack caught him again.

“Daniel?”

“Just gimme a minute, I’ll be fine.”

Sam hurried to support Daniel from the other side.

“Sit down again, Daniel, before you fall down,” she made it a command rather than a suggestion.

Too tired to argue, Daniel sat back on the tree stump and lifted his right leg, resting his calf on his left knee and grabbing his ankle. His mud-stained boots were clearly the worse for wear.

“Here, let me take a look at you,” Sam knelt down in front of him and started to unlace his boot.

“Uh, I don’t think you wanna be doing that, Sam,” Daniel warned her. “I’ve been in the same socks since we were back on Salverit. It’s gonna be pretty ripe in there.”

Sam removed the boot regardless.

“Arghh, god!” Daniel gripped the edge of the tree as the boot came off, his head jerking back as a wave of pain shot up his leg.

The sock was indeed pretty rank.

Jack put a hand up to his nose, which wrinkled in disgust.

Sam donned a fresh pair of surgical gloves and eased the sock off too.

As the cold night air met his bare foot, Daniel inhaled sharply, “Dammit that itches.”

“Holy Hannah! My god, Daniel!” Sam dropped the sock, her eyes wide at the state of his foot. It was a mass of blisters and sores, some of which had burst and were weeping or oozing puss. The whole foot was bruised and swollen and clearly infected.

“No wonder he has a raging fever,” Sam looked over her shoulder at Jack, who was pulling an even more horrified face. “This is the worst case of foot-rot I’ve ever seen.”


	10. gaman

“Euwww!” Jack took a step back, as if afraid it might be catching. Then he glared at the prisoners, “Look what you’ve done to him, you ba...” Jack saw the princess out of the corner of his eye and hastily amended, “you barbarians! I can’t believe I’m agreeing to help you.” His hand moved for his zat gun.

“Jack – no!” Daniel shook his head. “They were only trying to protect their own. They couldn’t afford to feel sorry for us and still do what they had to do. I can understand that.”

“We’re sorry for the way we treated our prisoners,” Folcan looked genuinely abashed. “He’s right. We couldn’t allow ourselves to think of them as anything but cargo. If we thought of them as people, it would make it harder to give them up in exchange for our families.”

Jack shrugged and let his hand relax. “I hope you... people... appreciate how lucky you are that Daniel is more understanding than I am.”

Sam had found a sachet of powder and hastily mixed it with water. “Here Daniel, drink this.”

Daniel pulled a face as he downed the concoction. Industrial strength antibiotics he knew; necessary, but foul tasting.

Sam began applying an anti-fungal treatment to his foot.

“Aarggh, Jeeze!” Daniel instinctively tried to pull his foot away, but Sam persevered.

“I know it feels slimy and horrid, but it’ll soon dry out. This contains a fast acting pain reliever too.”

Daniel squeezed his eyes tight shut, trying to blot out the pain and the intense itching. He hoped she was right about the relief being fast acting.

“I’m betting the other foot is just as bad,” Sam hazarded.

“Let’s not find out,” begged Daniel. “Please, just leave the boot on ‘til we get home!”

“Not a good idea, Daniel,” Sam cautioned, before turning to the colonel.

“Sir, there’s no way he can walk another step on these feet.”

“You got a spare pair I can borrow, Sam?” Daniel asked plaintively.

“Fix him up as best you can, Carter,” O’Neill ordered. “I’ll go fetch the horses.”

“Understood, sir,” Sam acknowledged.

Jack took his torch from his backpack and set off the way they’d come.

Sam turned her attention back to Daniel.

“Now, doesn’t that feel better?” she asked as she taped in place the bandage she had applied to hold the dressings firm. Then she sealed the whole foot in a plastic bag to keep the elements from introducing more contaminants.

“Yeah, thanks,” Daniel admitted, biting his lip as she turned her attention to his left foot.

“This would be a lot easier if I could elevate your legs,” Sam commented.

Princess Ro’Pita had been averting her eyes, but now she turned to look at him.

“We are sorry, Daniel. We had no idea your injuries were so severe.” There were tears in her eyes. “Never have we witnessed such an example of _gaman.”_

“Might I ask, what does _gaman_ mean, Highness?” Sam asked, before Daniel had a chance.

It sounded Japanese; at least he thought so. He couldn’t be sure. His head was too fuzzy. He’d not encountered anything else in her language to suggest that derivation. He’d been pretty sure that Salverit origins had been more Scandinavian.

“To endure with dignity and fortitude,” Ro’Pita smiled at Daniel, and he felt himself flush again. He concentrated on the fact that he’d been right about the Japanese. Her translation confirmed it.

“Daniel’s very brave,” Sam agreed, embarrassing him still further.

 _“_ We wish to make amends.” Ro’Pita declared. “How may we assist?”

Sam looked quizzically at Daniel, unsure about this unexpected turn of events.

“She’s had an epiphany,” Daniel said softly, looking down at his knees rather than hold eye contact with either woman.

“Well, if I could...uh... if Daniel could...” Sam hesitated. She never dreamed the princess could be so amenable.

Ro’Pita looked from one to the other, thinking about what Sam had said before.

“This tree stump is large. Daniel should lie down and rest his legs on our lap.” She patted her legs to confirm the invitation.

“But, Highness—“ Daniel began.

“Our clothes are already soiled by rain and mud. You will not sully them further.” Ro’Pita insisted. “Please. We are anxious to leave this place.”

Daniel couldn’t help but grin. Here she was being unbelievably selfless, yet she still managed to make it sound like she was thinking only of herself.

“Thank you, Highness.”

With his feet raised, Sam swiftly tended his left foot with the anti fungal cream and dressed it expertly, sealing it in a bag like it’s counterpart.

When Jack returned riding one of the horses and leading the other two, Sam was just finishing packing her med kit away.

“The taxi you ordered is here, Daniel,” Jack quipped. “Ready to take a ride?”

“Not alone, sir,” Sam answered for him. “He can’t put his feet in the stirrups, and I doubt he’ll be able to hold himself up. One of us will need to support him.”

Jack nodded and drew his zat gun, turning it on the captives.

“I got ‘em covered Teal’c, lift him up here with me.”

The muscular Jaffa had no problem taking Daniel’s weight and hoisting him up onto Jack’s horse. Daniel clasped his hands round Jack’s waist and leaned his head on the colonel’s back, his breathing erratic.

“Your turn, Princess,” Jack instructed.

“With your permission, Highness,” Teal’c bowed and extended his arms to lift her aloft.

“We cannot control the beast,” Ro’Pita told him nervously. “We will allow Carter to ride with us.”

“As you wish, Highness,” Sam smiled reassuringly as she climbed up behind the Princess.

Jack briefly debated leaving the third horse with Teal’c, but Carter reminded him that they had promised all three would be returned to Ruygan.

“Besides, if we rotate them and let each rest in turn, we’ll make better time,” she pointed out.


	11. Going Home?

**Mendan settlement**

They travelled much faster on the return journey, but Jack was still worried about how long they had taken navigating the forest, even after sunrise.

Daniel had drifted in and out of consciousness during the day, and several times Jack had barely caught him before he fell off the horse. Carter had been right, Jackson wouldn’t have made it very far on his own. Jack was also worried about how hot Daniel felt, his body heat searing into his back as they rode.

Mid morning, after yet another near fall, they dismounted and stopped briefly. Carter made Daniel drink another dose of the antibiotic, but he remained feverish. Sam took his pulse and said it was elevated. His heart rate was rapid but weak. He complained of a headache and feeling dizzy and seemed confused about where they were and what was happening.

While Ro’Pita cradled Daniel’s head and mopped his fevered brow, Carter led the colonel off to one side. “Daniel’s _very_ sick, sir. His temperature is through the roof. We need to get him to the infirmary A.S.A.P.”

“Or...?” Jack let the question hang in the air. He really didn’t want to speculate.

“I’m not a doctor, I wouldn’t like to say for sure. Those dressings I applied really ought to be changed, but out here I’m worried about exposing the wounds to more bacteria. As it is I’m afraid...” Shaking her head, she broke off and took a couple of steps away, turning aside.

Jack closed the gap and stood in front of her. “Report, Captain,” he demanded firmly, but his eyes betrayed a softness that silently told her he understood how she felt.

“Worst case scenario - with a fever running that high he could die sir.” She blinked back tears she didn’t want the colonel to see her shedding. “Although Daniel might consider my other concern to be worse than death.”

Jack looked at her in alarm. “What are you talking about, Carter?”

“His feet are riddled with infection. Unless Doc Fraiser can do something to get it under control pretty fast... Daniel might...” she took a hitching breath, unwilling to voice her fear. “He might lose... Janet may have to amputate them.”

“Ah, crap!” Jack wasn’t ready to visualize that scenario. He knew he’d almost certainly choose death over such a disability, and thought Carter could well be right about Daniel feeling the same. “Damn those sonsofbitches!”

Jack took a swing at the nearest tree, punching hard into the bark and welcoming the momentary distraction of the pain to his knuckles.

“They’re victims too, sir. The situation wasn’t of their choosing. They need our help.”

“Let ‘em rot.”

“You don’t mean that, Colonel,” Carter challenged. “There are children’s lives at stake too remember. They’ve done nothing to Daniel.”

“Maybe not,” he mumbled. Jack strode over to his horse and fed it one of the apples Ruygan had supplied, taking a moment to calm himself down. Then he took a deep breath and announced, “Time to mount up. Let’s get going.”

As they helped him up on to the rested horse, Sam suggested tying Daniel to Jack to help keep him in the saddle. But when they tried his fevered brain panicked, thinking he was back in captivity. It took all three of them to calm him down and reassure him that he was safe and among friends.

After that, Jack had pushed them even harder, so that by mid-afternoon they were back at the Mendan settlement.

Carter prevailed upon Ruygan to accompany them back to the _spinrock,_ so that he could collect his horses there, explaining that neither Daniel nor Ro’Pita could make it on foot. When she asked if they could hire more horses on their return so that the tyrant Drogor could be overthrown, Ruygan was only too pleased to offer what assistance he was able. He’d been afraid for the Mendan captives before when - against all reason - he’d decided to help them but, he told Sam, he felt in his heart that the best chance they had would be for him to trust the strangers. He claimed that he ‘sensed’ SG-1 would prove to be Menda’s salvation.

“We’ll do our best,” Sam assured him.

**Mendan Stargate**

Sam was helping a shaky Daniel - still on horseback - work out how to dial Earth. Jack was talking to the princess, sitting nervously atop her own horse while Ruygan held its reins. Jack had to admit, if only to himself, that her time in captivity seemed to have done wonders in toning down her superiority complex.

“Would you rather we took you back home to Salverit instead, Highness?” he asked tactfully, though he’d have Sam take Daniel through to Earth first before he accompanied the princess if it came to it. “I know you must be anxious to be sure your father is safe.”

“We _are_ concerned for our father, but we cannot go home. We can _never_ go home.” Ro’Pita burst into tears.

Daniel paused his study of the DHD and looked over his shoulder at the sound of her sobbing.

“What have you said to the princess now, Jack?” he asked wearily. He didn’t have the energy to plead for Jack’s life again.

“Who, me?” Jack pointed to himself, looking hurt and offended. “Nothing - just asked if she wanted to go straight home.”

Ro’Pita wailed even louder.

“What is it, Highness, what’s wrong?” Sam asked sympathetically.

“If we t-tell you, you will l-leave us he-he-here,” she said through her sobs.

“Of course we won’t, Highness,” Daniel promised. “Please tell us why you’re so upset.”

“We are no longer of use to anyone,” she buried her face in her hands.

“What do you mean, Highness?” Sam instinctively wanted to hug the girl, but even if Ro’Pita weren’t still on the horse, Carter would have needed royal consent to touch her.

Ro’Pita fingered the dressing Sam had applied to her forehead. “This injury has robbed us of our gift. We dare not confess it before. We feared those ruffians would kill us, and Daniel too. We cannot return home in shame. We will not be welcome.” She renewed her crying.

“Your father will be relieved to see you,” Daniel reassured her.

“He will not,” Ro’Pita insisted. “He blames us for the death of our mother when she birthed us. He only tolerates us because we have helped Salverit prevail against deceivers. No-one of Salverit likes Ro’Pita – only her gift.” She dissolved into further floods of tears, her body shaking with sobs.

“Perhaps your gift will return once your injury heals, Highness,” Daniel tried to placate her. He felt for her distress, but also for his own. Her bawling was exacerbating his headache.

She looked at him and he smiled at her in encouragement.

She suddenly remembered she was not the only injured party.

“Perhaps,” she echoed, sniffing. “This is not the time or place to speculate on it. We should hasten to your ‘infirmary’ as soon as possible.”

She didn’t make it clear whether she was using the ‘royal we’ or including Daniel in that. Daniel felt that she was being deliberately ambiguous, so as to be thoughtful without seeming soft and weak. Either way, he heartily agreed with her plan. She may dread returning to her home, but he was desperate to get back to his. He was so damned tired.


	12. Better Dead

**SGC Infirmary**

Janet tapped Colonel O’Neill on the shoulder, rousing him from his nap. He sat up in the chair, rubbing his eyes.

“What, what is it?”

Doctor Fraiser didn’t reply, she simply pointed to the bed next to him, drawing his attention to the pale figure stirring beneath the sheets.

A drip stand on the other side of the bed connected to a cannula on the back of Daniel’s hand, replacing lost fluids and administering at intervals either antibiotics or pain relief.

A wire cage kept the weight of the bedding from pressing on his damaged feet.

Daniel yawned, blinked, and spotted his friend leaning toward him. “Jack?”

“Hey there, how’s our sleeping beauty?” Jack greeted him jovially.

“Still unbelievably tired,” Daniel admitted, yawning again to prove it. He tried to lick his lips; they felt dry and rough as rocks. Problem was, his tongue felt like sandpaper.

Janet elevated the head end of his bed and passed him a drink of water in a lidded cup with a straw. His hand was a little shaky so he was glad the lid stopped it from spilling. He sipped the cool clear liquid gratefully.

“How long have I been asleep?” he asked.

“You’ve been out of it for the best part of three days.”

“Earth days, or Mendan days?”

Dr. Fraiser smiled in satisfaction at his level of responsiveness. She took his temperature, “Fever’s definitely broken.”

“What’d I miss?” Daniel frowned.

“Oh, nothing much,” quipped Jack. “While you were snoring back here we only went and overthrew Drogor the dictator and gave Menda back to the Mendans. Hammond wasn’t best pleased we’d committed ‘his people’ - “ Jack mimed speech marks in the air to emphasize the quote. “- to a coup, but I soon talked him round. Just like we ‘persuaded’ Drogor and his men to leave Menda in peace and hook up with the resistance fighters on P2X- 418 instead. No biggie.”

“Drogor,” Daniel mused. “I remember now. His symbol’s the shark.”

“Excuse me?” Jack looked from Daniel to the doc. She’d just assured him Daniel’s fever had broken, yet he sounded pretty delirious to Jack.

“God of the angry oceans, creator of hurricanes and tsunamis. Bet he caused all that damned rain.” Daniel grimaced at the memory.

“He wasn’t Goa’uld, Daniel.” O’Neill reminded him.

“No. Dragon Realms. RPG.” Daniel sipped the water again. His mouth felt so dry; his throat dreadfully sore.

“A computer game?” Janet queried. “I hardly think it likely some alien would be named after a character in one of our computer games.” She too looked concerned for Daniel’s mental state.

Daniel shook his head as if trying to clear it. “No, I guess you’re right. I seriously doubt there’s a connection. Some coincidence though, huh?”

“If you say so, Danny boy,” Jack thought it best to humor the invalid, but couldn’t resist a little dig. “Say, you okay? You didn’t get knocked on the noggin too did ya?” Jack rapped him gently on the forehead with his knuckles as if knocking to see if anyone were at home.

“I’m fine, Jack; just really, really tired.” Daniel paused a moment, looking confused, “Too?”

Jack could have sworn he actually saw the light-bulb go on.

“Princess Ro’Pita! Is she all right? I’m afraid I was mean to her. I snapped at her and said some harsh things, even though I’d guessed she’d lost her gift. She must’ve been really frightened and confused and I should’ve been more sympathetic.”

“Yes, Daniel, you _should_ have been more sympathetic to us. However, you were under extreme duress and much fatigued so we have decided to forgive you.” The voice came from the other side of a curtain drawn between Daniel’s bed and the next. She bade Janet pull it back so that they may talk face to face.

“That’s very gracious of you, Highness,” Daniel acknowledged. “How are you feeling?”

“We are still frightened and confused, but no longer in pain, thanks to the doctor’s medications. We hope that your feet and back no longer trouble you so much. We do not wish for Daniel to continue to suffer.”

“Thank you, Highness. I think Doctor Fraiser has me pretty doped up on painkillers too.”

Janet nodded in confirmation.

“We are curious, Daniel. How could you have known about our loss? You have no such gift for truth-saying yourself or you would have had no need for us to help you with your prisoner in the first place.”

“You gave yourself away when you accused me of betraying you, Highness. Your gift should have told you I wasn’t working with the Mendans.”

“Daniel is very wise,” Ro’Pita smiled at him.

He smiled back, stifling a yawn. His eyelids were drooping.

“Daniel is also in need of rest,” Janet put in firmly. “With respect, Highness, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you and Colonel O’Neill to leave him in peace to get some sleep now.”

“But I’ve _been_ asleep for the past three days, Janet,” Daniel protested irritably, “Why am I still so tired?”

“This is not just your ‘bushed after pulling an all-nighter translating some alien text’ kind of tired, Daniel. This is ‘pushed your body _way_ beyond the limits of what is reasonable to expect it to cope with’ kind of _total_ physical exhaustion. You need complete rest and plenty of it. And I intend to make sure you get it, even if it means I have to sedate you; though I’d prefer not to resort to that if I can help it.”

She smiled to make it seem less like a threat, but Daniel wasn’t fooled. She knew how much he hated to be sedated.

Daniel lifted his wrists slightly in a subtle gesture of surrender. If he were honest, it was a struggle to keep his eyes open. Even as Jack was promising to go and let the others know how he was doing, Daniel slipped back into Hypnos’ soothing embrace.

**04:17am Infirmary**

Daniel tossed restlessly despite his exhaustion. He woke frequently, feeling achy in his joints and muscles and not at all refreshed. Once, he’d shuffled around trying to get comfortable and a sharp cry escaped his lips. Dr. Fraiser had been there almost instantly, setting up a slow release dose of pain relief. Mostly after that he fell right back to sleep each time he woke.

That had been hours ago, and the positive effects were starting to wear off when he roused once more. He tried to settle, but something disturbed his attempt to drift off again. A noise. It took a moment for his foggy brain to identify it.

Crying: it was the sound of someone sobbing.

“Highness?”

“Oh!” Ro’Pita gasped loudly. “We are sorry, Daniel, we did not mean to disturb you.”

“What’s wrong, Highness? Are you in pain? Should I call the doc?”

“We have just seen your Doctor. We could not sleep and she sought to reassure us. She informed us that our... ‘scans?’ is that the word?” she waited for his confirmation.

“Scans, yes, Highness. They help us to see what’s going on inside the body so we know what needs fixing.”

“Our scans show there is nothing that _can_ be fixed. There is a crack in our head-bone that will heal in time, but there is no significant damage to our brain. Your Doctor thought this to be good news. We do not. If it is not broken then it will not mend, Daniel. Our gift will not return. Our gift will _never_ return.” Ro’Pita wailed.

Daniel twisted round to look at her, grimacing at the movement. “I’m sorry, Highness, I was hoping--”

“—As were we. But there is no hope. Daniel nearly died for us – for nothing. We are nothing but trouble and nuisance and annoyance. It would be better for everyone if we were dead!” She sobbed again.

“I disagree Highness,” Daniel told her softly. “I for one would be very sad if your Highness were to die.”

She sniffed. “Thank you, Daniel. We do not deserve your kindness. In fact, you should no longer call us ‘Highness’ for we are brought low. We are...” she paused, “ _I_ am less than the humblest servant in our... uh... _my_ palace. At least they have purpose.”

He could almost see the thought process by which she saw the loss of her gift as a loss of identity. It was as if the ‘royal we’ had referred to Ro’Pita and her gift as two entities, and now she was alone. Poor kid.

“High-“

“No!”

“Princess, just because you don’t have your gift doesn’t mean you’re worthless.”

“W- _I_ am no longer of use to anyone. Not to my own people nor yet to you or your people, Daniel. Without my gift I cannot discern unequivocally if your prisoner is a deceitful Goa’uld, or truly Tok’ra as he claims.” She spoke slowly, careful to correct the _pluralis majestatis_ she no longer believed she deserved whenever she instinctively began to use it.

“Ah, but _he_ doesn’t know that.” The germ of an idea was forming in Daniel’s weary mind. “Princess Ro’Pita, I believe we shall have to educate you in the fine art of ‘bluffing’ while you’re here.”

Despite his encouraging smile, Ro’Pita noticed a pained expression in his eyes.

“W- I do not understand this reference, but this is not the time to pursue it. Daniel needs to rest. Should I summon the doctor to sedate you?”

Daniel frowned. “No,” he told her emphatically, then softened his tone. “No, Highness, that won’t be necessary.”

True to his word, before she could correct him for calling her Highness again, he had fallen back to sleep. 


	13. Tok'ra or not Tok'ra, that is the question

**Outside the SGC brig**

**Two days later**

Ro’Pita bit her lip nervously and shifted in her wheelchair, straightening the claret colored ‘regal’ outfit Sam had picked out for her. “I’m s-still not sure I’m ready for this,” she voiced her concern to Sam for the hundredth time.

“Sure y’are!” Jack reassured her cheerily. “You aced the poker test.” He turned his pockets inside out to indicate she’d cleaned him out.

“You’ve probably been observing body language and facial expressions for years without realizing it, Princess,” Sam told her. “You’re a great judge of character, gift or no gift. Teal’c’s the only one who has even come close to fooling you with a lie. I really believe you’ve a great chance of keeping your secret. Just remember that you mustn’t let your own body language give away a lack of confidence.”

“There is nothing to fear, Princess Ro’Pita. The prisoner is securely confined and cannot harm you,” Teal’c reminded her. “Should he even try, we are well armed.” He raised his zat gun.

“I suppose if he ‘calls my bluff’ as Daniel put it, I will at least know where I stand,” Ro’Pita stated resignedly. “Let us go inside.”

Sam gestured to the guard to wait a moment before opening the door.

Colonel O’Neill tilted his head to one side in silent query.

“Sir, if we’re all supposed to be acting like nothing’s changed, I think we should call Ro’Pita ‘Highness’ again, and...” she turned to the young lady in question, “your Highness should revert to using the ‘royal we’ when self-referencing.”

The Princess sighed, “It has taken me two days to remember _not_ to use it, now you want me – us – to unlearn the uh... the humility?”

“Personally, Princess, I like you a whole heap better with a healthy dose of humility,” Jack told her candidly. “But I guess Carter’s right about keeping up appearances. All’s I’m gonna say is try to put the ‘we’ back in your words without sticking the rod back up your butt, eh.”

“Colonel! Sir!” Captain Carter admonished him with a hard stare. This was _not_ the way to address royalty, especially someone like Ro’Pita. Two weeks ago, she’d have had him flogged for less.

“’We’ forgive Jack,” Ro’Pita inclined her head benevolently, “he cannot help _trying_ to sound clever, it comes naturally to him.”

“Thanks,” Jack smiled, but then wiped the grin from his face. “I think.” He leaned toward Carter and whispered, “Did she just insult me?”

Sam’s eyes sparkled with merriment, but it was to Ro’Pita she addressed her comment, “Shall we get this over with?”

“By all means. Proceed.”

**SGC brig**

“The renowned Princess Ro’Pita _finally_ deigns to grace me with her royal presence!” The prisoner bowed reverentially, though there was a hint of impatience and sarcasm in his tone, and the briefest flash of yellow in his eyes. “It is a relief to be in the presence of someone who will vouch for me at last. Gaborth of Delanosh at your service, Highness. My host is known as Rostif.”

Sam felt a chill run down her spine. It hadn’t been all that long since the fateful mission that had resulted in _her_ being held prisoner in this very cell, host to a symbiote who claimed – as this one did – to be Tok’ra. Jolinar of Malkshur had proven genuine, ultimately giving its life to save Sam’s.

So far, all Carter knew for certain about the man before them was that he carried a symbiote. That the host had knowledge of Jolinar proved nothing. The Tok’ra operative had been hiding out on Nassya precisely because the Goa’uld had set an Ashrak on Jolinar. This one could have been involved in organizing the hunt for all they knew.

They really knew very little of the Tok’ra. Jolinar had died before they’d had a chance to learn much more than Jaffa legend had already taught Teal’c. Colonel O’Neill remained highly skeptical, maintaining that the only good Goa’uld was a dead one. Sam was more inclined to be sympathetic. Jolinar’s self sacrifice had left her with a deep sense of loss that she was still trying to work through; though at times she could almost feel a lingering presence, like the phantom pain of a lost limb. Once or twice she’d had dreams that seemed more like shared memories, but vague and ethereal, nothing she could latch onto. She _wanted_ to believe this guy was Tok’ra. If so, she was hoping to learn more about Jolinar. Nevertheless, she remained guarded.

“You have heard of... us?” Ro’Pita studied the prisoner carefully.

“These fools told me I had to wait for your seal of approval before I could regain my freedom and complete my _vital_ mission,” he glared at Colonel O’Neill, his hands gripping the bars of his cell. “But word of your ‘gift’ has reached the Council’s ears before. Your Highness would make a most valuable addition to the ranks of the Tok’ra.”

The trio responded as one, without need for an order. At the perceived threat they instantly moved between the prisoner and the princess, raising their weapons.

Gaborth lifted his arms in the universal gesture of appeasement. “Only if she desired it, naturally.”

“Sure,’ sneered Colonel O’Neill, clearly not buying it.

“Relax, we are in no danger,” Ro’Pita declared. “Gaborth and Rostif are Tok’ra, not Goa’uld.”

Jack wanted to ask her, “Are you sure?” but bit the question back. She was supposed to be infallible. He couldn’t afford to express any reservations or her secret would be out.

“I think the Colonel here still needs a little more convincing,” Gaborth had experienced enough of Jack’s hostility during questioning to know that he would not easily accept his prisoner as an ally, despite the Princess’ assurance. He smiled somewhat smarmily at O’Neill, “Fetch me the healing device you took from me, and I will repair the damage to the Princess’s ankle and head. Will that satisfy you of my honorable intentions?”

“Yeah right, Gabby. Like we’re gonna let you loose on the Princess with a goa’uld device. How stupid do you think we are?” Jack caught the twinkle in Ro’Pita’s eye and hastily instructed, “Don’t answer that. You can just think again, buster.”

“Sir?” Carter gave a little jerk of her head to indicate she wanted a quiet word with her superior. They moved to one side.

“Let’s hear it, Captain,” O’Neill ordered.

“I was thinking we shouldn’t be too hasty, sir,” Carter began. “Remember Daniel’s feet are still in a bad way. If this guy can heal them...”

“You really think we can trust him, Carter?” Jack looked her in the eye, his expression clearly indicating how important her answer was.

Sam glanced over at the prisoner, then back to the colonel. “I believe so, sir, yes.” Carter met his gaze confidently. “We can keep him covered. Zat him if he tries anything hostile.”

Jack pondered a moment.

“Okay, but I’m still not gonna risk the Princess right off. He can heal Daniel... _if_ and _only if_ Danny agrees to it.”

“Understood, sir.”


	14. Hang in there

**SGC Infirmary**

“You _sure_ you wanna go through with this?” Jack asked Daniel for the fifth time.

“Jack, Janet can’t guarantee me a full recovery. There’s at least a slight possibility this could keep me off the team permanently. Wouldn’t you risk it for the chance to be cured overnight?”

Sam squeezed his shoulder supportively. Though the danger of needing to amputate was past, Daniel was still facing a potential prospect of being crippled for life. Who wouldn’t jump at the chance to avoid that? She mentally winced at the unfortunate choice of phrase that had come to mind. She was really glad she hadn’t voiced it aloud.

Jack had to concede that almost anything was probably better than a medical discharge, though in Daniel’s case he wasn’t Air Force, and would certainly be kept on in a consultancy role.

“Doc? I thought you said he was making good progress?”

“He is. But like Daniel said, I can’t offer any guarantees. I’m not entirely happy, but I think he deserves the chance.”

Jack nodded curtly in acceptance. Then he waved his zat gun in the direction of the doorway, gesturing to Teal’c and the SF guard to bring Rostif in.

“I’m warning you, don’t try any funny business,” Jack leveled his weapon at the prisoner and gave him his best steely glare.

“What could I possibly have to gain?” Gaborth glared back, looking round at the four weapons pointing at him from an unmissable range.

Then he softened his expression as he turned toward Janet Fraiser, “What are we dealing with here? I’m going to need to take a look...”

Janet explained Daniel’s condition as she turned back the bottom of the sheet, set aside the cage and gently removed the bandages from Daniel’s right foot.

Daniel hissed as his flesh met fresh air. For a moment he was mentally transported back to the campsite and his reaction was exactly the same. “Dammit to hell that itches!” His face creased into a frown and he bit his lip.

Janet carefully lowered Daniel’s calf back onto the supporting pillow.

“Hmm, the damage is extensive, but I’ll see what I can do.” Gaborth held out his hand and Sam put the healing device into it.

She wondered for a moment if she should have offered to use Kendra’s device on Daniel herself. She knew that it would respond to her because she’d once hosted Jolinar, but somehow she was always afraid of doing more harm than good. She’d experimented with the goa’uld devices when they first brought them back from Cimmeria, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to get the hang of _controlling_ them. If she were honest with herself, having that sort of power scared her a little.

“Ready?” Rostif asked Daniel.

“As I’ll ever be,” Daniel responded nervously.

Gaborth stretched out his arm and aimed the device at Daniel’s foot. The gadget glowed.

Daniel tensed, pressed his lips together and grabbed a handful of the bed-sheet, screwing it up in his fist. A soft moan rumbled in his throat.

“That’s as far as you go, buster,” Jack decided, letting the metal of his zat gun make cold hard contact with Gaborth’s temple.

“No! Argh. Back off, Jack. It’s... gnuh... it’s working, I can feel it. Give him a chance.”

“You crazy? Anyone can see he’s hurting you.”

“No pain, n-no gain,” Daniel let out a brief strained laugh.

“Sir, when we saw Kendra heal the boy’s broken wrist, he winced in pain too. Some discomfort may well be part of the healing process,” Sam put in.

Jack relaxed his grip on the zat gun, but only a little. “If Daniel screams, _you_ won’t get the chance to,” he warned Gaborth.

Daniel rolled his eyes. _Way to go, Jack. All that’s done is pressure me to suffer in silence. Oww that’s hot!_ He twisted the sheet in his grasp and scrunched up his eyes.

After what felt to all of them like hours but was really only minutes, Rostif lowered his arm as if it weighed a ton.

Daniel felt pretty drained, but his foot didn’t hurt any more.

“You all done?” Jack asked the Tok’ra.

Gaborth nodded.

“Well?” Jack still had his zat covering the prisoner, though his stance was somewhat more relaxed.

Dr. Fraiser changed into clean surgical gloves and gently lifted Daniel’s heel. She looked his foot over top and bottom, smiling and nodding in satisfaction. Then she ran a finger along his sole from heel to toe, and was pleased when his leg recoiled in reaction.

“Can you move your toes for me, Daniel?”

Daniel obediently wiggled his toes.

“Any pain?”

“None. Nothing at all.” Daniel beamed in relief and looked over to Rostif. “That feels _so_ much better, thanks.”

“Happy now?” Gaborth asked the Colonel.

“Job’s only half done,” Jack responded curtly.

“Colonel, the process clearly takes it out of him, Daniel’s looking worn out,” Janet observed. “Perhaps it would be better if you uh... came back tomorrow...”

Gaborth raised his arm carefully so as not to get himself zatted. “I’d just as soon not waste another night in your cell.”

“How ‘bout it, Daniel? You up for it?”

“I _am_ feeling very tired, but,” he added quickly when it looked like Jack was going to haul Rostif out by the scruff of the neck. “I’d kinda like a matching pair, if you don’t mind.” He gave Jack a goofball grin and a shrug of the shoulders as if to say ‘it doesn’t _really_ matter either way, only _please_ don’t let him go ‘til the other one’s healed.’

“You’re still very weak, Daniel, I don’t want you overdoing things,” Janet cautioned.

Daniel gave her a sideways glare. “Overdo what? I’m just lying here!”

Janet still hesitated, until Daniel tried to sit up to remove the bandage from his left foot himself.

“Okay, you win. Lie still,” she ordered sternly.

Soon the bandages were off and Gaborth was repeating the process on Daniel’s left foot.

The tension in the room was palpable.

Daniel felt it most of all, having to hold in any sign of discomfort lest Jack get trigger-happy.

Daniel wasn’t sure if knowing what to expect was a blessing or a curse. Though on reflection, he supposed it helped to have the certainty of a positive outcome to look forward to at the end of what was still an unpleasant process.

Once Janet finally declared the foot passed inspection, Daniel thanked Gaborth again and asked how soon he could get up.

“The feet are well healed – no pun intended,” Gaborth assured him. “You can go dancing right now if you like.”

“Great!” Daniel shifted as if about to test the assertion, grimacing as aching back muscles protested the move.

“ _I’ll_ be the judge of when Daniel’s fit to be discharged, thank you very much,” Janet declared firmly. “He’s—“

“—sustained other injuries?” Gaborth guessed, preparing to use the device again. “Show me.”

“A few aches and strains, nothing serious,” Daniel reassured him. “Princess Ro’Pita’s need is greater than mine right now.”

“In that case, perhaps you’d better rest a while longer,” Gaborth decided. “I’ll leave you in your medic’s obviously capable hands.”

A nod from O’Neill had Teal’c, Sam and the SF escorting the Tok’ra to the waiting Princess. Jack remained at Daniel’s bedside.

“Dan-iel?” Jack tilted his head in query.

“Ja-ack?” Daniel rolled his eyes, mimicking Jack’s elongation of his name.

“Okay, spill. Why’d ya really get rid of him? You okay? What’d he do to you?”

“I’m fine, Jack,” Daniel placated, seeing the glint of murderous intent in Jack’s eye. “What he did was heal my feet. For which I’m eternally grateful. Looks like the Princess called it accurately. He’s one of the good guys.”

“Pah!” snorted Jack.

The fact he had Gaborth the snake inside him made Rostif decidedly suspect to the colonel’s mind and always would. Even if it _was_ there by invitation.

**SGC Gate Room**

**Next day**

Daniel shook Rostif by the hand. “I can never repay you—“

“—forget it,” the Tok’ra shrugged dismissively. “Just keep reminding your ‘superior’ there to be a bit more open-minded, huh?”

Daniel side-eyed Jack and grinned. “Tough job, but I’m working on it!”

Rostif nodded sympathetically.

 _“Chevron Seven, Locked,”_ Sergeant Harriman’s voice echoed through the microphone.

“Good luck with your mission,” Daniel escorted the Tok’ra up the ramp. “Watch your back, it sounds dangerous. Keep in touch, let us know how it goes.”

“Since your people haven’t trusted me with your ‘iris code’ that could prove a bit problematic,” Gaborth rejoined without rancor. In their position, he’d have been equally reticent. Protecting the location of the Tok’ra home world was so sacrosanct that the mere _suspicion_ it had been divulged to outsiders led to the entire community uprooting and settling on – or rather in - a new planet.

Then without a backward glance, Gaborth hurried through the event horizon, hoping that he could complete his mission and still get back to base in time to test his suspicion that Cordesh was a spy in their midst before he could betray the Tok’ra, enabling the Goa’uld to descended upon them and destroy them all.

Moments later the Gate was in standby mode once more, but SG-1 remained where they were. Daniel descended the ramp to rejoin the others. The door opened and Janet escorted Princess Ro’Pita to Daniel’s side. Behind them a bunch of technicians had been pressed into service to carry the half-dozen trunks of clothes and gifts her Highness had procured to take back with her. They were loaded onto a small flatbed on caterpillar tracks normally used for transporting crates of weapons or emergency supplies.

“Ready to go home, Highness?” Daniel offered his arm and Ro’Pita linked hers at the elbow, reflecting his smile with one of her own.

The Princess had agreed to resume the formality of address and many of the other conventions of her former life so that the loss of her ‘gift’ would remain undetected, but she had decided that the ‘do not touch’ rule had to go. It had been a major contributory factor in isolating her from others and making her life miserable. From her time with SG-1 - chiefly Daniel - she had learned that she preferred friends who liked to be with her instead of subjects who were too afraid not to cater to her every whim. Being of superior rank didn’t have to mean being aloof to the point of being obnoxious. She may not have liked hearing Jack tell her that, but she now appreciated the truth of it.

Though she had been crestfallen at first that Gaborth’s healing had not restored her gift, Daniel had soon helped her to come to terms with it. He told her it was a blessing in disguise. She had to stop thinking that the only thing special about her was her gift, and explore the fact that _everyone_ is unique and important in some way, regardless of any ‘magic powers’ they may or may not have.

“I think I am going to have fun finding out who Ro’Pita really is, don’t you?” the Princess asked as they watched the Gate begin to dial Salverit.

“I’m sure you will, Highness,” Daniel responded, before reminding her that she had slipped out of the _pluralis majestatis_ again.

“ _We_ thank you, Daniel. We thank you for _all_ you have taught us.” Ro’Pita leaned over and kissed Daniel on the cheek, causing him to blush and Jack to nudge Teal’c, winking.

“We shall never forget what you endured to keep us safe, Daniel. We are forever in your debt.”

“It was indeed an impressive display of fortitude, Daniel Jackson,” agreed Teal’c. “Particularly for one not raised as a warrior.” 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, how _did_ you manage it, Daniel?” Sam queried. “It must have been sheer Hell every step of the way. How come you didn’t give up?”

“Well, um... Jack said to hang in there and you guys would come get me. So I uh... I followed orders. I hung in there.”

“You didn’t think maybe we _weren’t_ gonna get free to rescue you?” Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Nope; never doubted for a second.” Daniel shook his head emphatically. “Though you sure took your damned sweet time about it, Jack!”

Daniel’s hand flew to his mouth as he realized how inappropriate his language had been in the presence of royalty.

Ro’Pita shrugged and giggled, releasing the momentary tension in the group.

Their footsteps as they climbed the metal ramp to escort the princess home were drowned out by the sound of their collective laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first venture into the universe that is Stargate. I have been writing Quantum Leap for 18 years, but am only just getting to know these characters. I hope I have captured them reasonably well, but please give me honest feedback so that I can develop and improve.


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